I'm really liking working within the framework of a Sonnet, so I'm going to try to write a sonnet a week for a while, and will post them on Saturdays. It just seemed appropriate. :-)
There is a story behind this particular sonnet, and it all began with a discussion about the lenten reflection by Father Barron on Rose windows. As we were talking about it, both my sister and I were talking about how God seems to be in the process of rearranging us and our priorities. As I reflected on it that night as I was trying to sleep, the last line of the poem came to me, and I just had to finish it out.
The Rose Window (Sonnet #2)
He searches the debris with studied care
A little red here, that small shard of blue
And snatches each fraction with Love's bright flare.
Others He passes, darkened hues untrue.
Shattered, I survey the scattered ruins
Even as He picks through colored scraps.
My pride seeks full redress in illusion,
Not aware jilted flaws will cause relapse.
He smiles at my folly, still searching through
The fragments of my plans, hopes, wishes, dreams.
His hands never waver--His stance shifts the view--
And points to the specimen he redeems.
The partial rose window hold me en masse:
We shall be God's masterpiece in stained glass.
One of the main Rose windows in the Cathedral in Leon, Spain.
The Bard's great sonnets have intrigued me since I was introduced to them in my high school English class, but I was never brave enough to attempt one...until now. That being said, I'm not sure what to title this, and I'm sure it could use some work. If you have any suggestions for a title or better word choice, I'm all ears.
Love lost, like Winter's bitter waxing fruit
Chills the heart, breathing frost to all corners.
Its rind shatters, a pernicious sharp brute
With edges pricking quick-fingered mourners.
Ev'ry waxing must wane in tired coats
Of fallen leaves and musty mothball bins.
The detritus swept within handheld totes
And carted out with empty Christmas tins.
What compost may transform such toxic shards:
Brittle Bastions to healthy fertile soil?
Which words of wisdom grip sleeping bards and
Mend long fallow tracts with frivolous toil?
Like all perennials, the fronds of hope
Unfurl to absorb, revamp, heal and cope.
Some of the beautiful flowers to be seen on campus
A friend of mine has been posting a picture daily of ordinary things in her life that bring her joy, and has tagged them #100OrdinaryDays on her Facebook page. I really like the idea of doing something like this, but often forget to take a picture a day after about the 15th or 20th day. I have also been talking online with someone I met through CatholicMatch.com for the last 2 weeks. Since he has an M.A. in philosophy, I will call him the Philosopher for any future posts that include him. Anyway, because I was trying to think about ways to get a better idea of his day to day life (he lives near Dallas), I asked him to chronicle a day of his life in pictures, then promised to do the same for him. It seems like a more doable option than the picture a day my friend is doing on her Facebook feed, anyway.
Beyond this, I'm going to try to keep my captioning to a minimum and let my pictures speak for themselves...
Morning, Sleepy Head!
Now that you're awake...Breakfast?
Did you say "WALK???"
You did! You did say Walk!!!
Pretty as a picture
Prayer while Commuting
The paths around the construction
Beautiful Summer Morning
My Building Straight ahead!
Finally to work!
Breakfast and my current favorite tea.
Back to my Car via the parking Garage
Now to look at the other foot...
Waiting for the Doctor
View from the bridge between my parking lot and the parking garage.
Lunch!
My view of the Lab I work in.
Keeping from burning myself on the steering wheel.
You can see Juarez from here!
Looks like Monsoon season is starting early!
A lazy dinner
Typical Rush Hour Traffic a few hours late
Hi, Aunt Ruth. Take my picture!
Do I have to get my picture taken???
Who's There?
Welcome HOME!!!!
Chores before Bedtime!
Icing the site of injection.
Lighting the Candle on the Family Altar...and Lucy. Time to go to Bed! 'Night all!
Me on the last day that I (semi)successfully ran. I've made attempts since then, but none got past about a mile
I love running. I love the euphoria from working my muscles hard, the sweat as it cools from a self-made breeze, and the way I can eat because I've burned over 500 calories that day. I love the way it clears out the cobwebs in my cranium, and how it helps me to untie the knots in my thinking and feelings. I love the ability to call myself a runner...something that I never thought I could say about myself!
And, because I'm just a little too stubborn and a little too competitive, I have not been able to run since the beginning of March (I pushed myself too hard at the half-marathon in Feb. because I wanted to beat my time from my half-maration in January--which re-injured my tendons). After resting for close to 8 weeks, I finally realized that I wasn't getting better. So, I went to the Orthopedic Surgeon, and then scheduled an MRI. The diagnosis: partial thickness tears in the Peroneal tendons of both feet.
What I have...
It means that I will not be running any time soon, and I will probably need surgery to fix it. My appointment with the foot specialist is on June 10th, and we will see what happens from there. I'm really missing running, and am having a hard time finding exercises that don't use these particular tendons, but I'm also willing to do whatever it takes to work up to being able to run again. At the same time, I realize that I will likely never be able to run a full marathon, and I'm actually ok with that. I'd rather be able to be a middle distance runner than not a runner at all.
If I can't run, at least I can spend time with friends at Chihuahuas baseball games!
In the process, God is teaching me patience and, while I don't like the lesson, I'm pretty sure that I need it. I've always known that I am not the most patient of people, and I even prayed for patience for most of my high school years. Then I realized that "tribulation worketh patience" and stopped at the first real lesson God gave me....not because I suddenly became a paragon of patience, but because the lesson was just too painful. Either someone is praying that I acquire a little more of this virtue, or God has decided to answer the prayers I prayed way back in high school. Either way, learning to wait and to dial back my exercise has required that I develop a measure of grace for myself, whether I want to or not. Now that my body has gotten accustomed to moving on a regular basis, this enforced inactivity makes me feel antsy and out of sorts. I've found that bicycling doesn't hurt as long as I rest a sufficient number of days between exercise, but it isn't the same thing. All I have to say is that, the Lord willing, I will be back pounding the pavement someday. I'm willing to put in the work if it means that I can run another half marathon. Until then, I wait and I pray. And that is a blessing all its own.
I love this song from the Shrek soundtrack. It is the only soundtrack that I bought immediately after seeing the film for the first time--mostly because of this song. While this song is very somber, there is nothing somber about the Easter season. Somberness is reserved for lent.
In lent, the flowers on the altar become more understated or disappear altogether; We quit saying Alleluia before the Gospel reading; we omit the Gloria at the beginning of Mass as well. Worship becomes stark, and it reinforces the idea that now is the time to fast, pray, and do penance.
And then, Easter comes. Just as with many things in Catholicism, the order of worship reflects the feelings and tone of that part of the liturgical year. This is why the Easter Vigil has to be my favorite service of the year. It begins outside the sanctuary by a bonfire as the sun is setting. Then, the Christ candle is lit from the bonfire while the Story of Christ's death and resurrection are briefly recounted through the Easter Proclamation. Then, from the Christ candle, candles that each participant holds are lit. Traditionally, the sanctuary remains dark for the first part of the Mass, except for the candles that the congregants hold. Then, the Priest, as he is entering the sanctuary, says, loudly, "The light of Christ" and we respond, "Thanks be to God." This part always brings to mind the verses from Isaiah 9:
The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
Upon those who lived in a land of gloom
a light has shone.
What I love most about the Easter Vigil, though, is the fact that the whole of the salvation story is recounted. There are 7 readings from the Old Testament that are traditionally read (although you usually only hear 4 for the sake of time), as well as a reading from the New Testament and the Gospel narrative of the resurrection. Then, any adults that are entering the Church receive the sacraments of initiation (Baptism if needed, First Communion, and Confirmation). I love this part, too, as it reminds me of when I entered the Church.
On this night, we also sing/say the Gloria and the Alleluia for the first time in 7 weeks, and every time it makes my heart sing. I find that, as we go from darkness to light, from fasting to feasting, from penance to praise, I am reminded of the verse in the Psalm 30:
For his anger lasts but a moment;
his favor a lifetime.
At dusk weeping comes for the night;
but at dawn there is rejoicing.
And then, the Easter Season begins. I love this, too. For, Easter doesn't end with one day. It lasts until Pentecost Sunday, and we officially celebrate Easter for 8 weeks. What a blessing that is--to remember the joy of Christ's resurrection for longer than we were "rending [our] hearts and not [our] garments" (Joel 2:13).
So, the liturgical year reminds me once again that weeping and rejoicing both have a place in my life. Sometimes, like in the song above, I rejoice through my tears--and when I do, sometimes that rejoicing is "a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah". For I often know that God has asked me to give up or has taken away from me those things which keep me from Him. In the process, I become better, more grounded, and ultimately, more like Him. May we grow closer to Jesus as we rejoice in this Easter season, just as we did in the fasting of Lent, and may we never lose sight of how much He did for us!
Tick, tock, tick, tock
The time passes in
Grains of sand and
Emails: "you have won!"
"Can you help me?"
"20% off!"
All of them beckon
Me to read, to ponder
To attend.
My mind is elsewhere,
Dreaming of long walks
With my dog, a good book
And homemade popcorn.
No alarm clocks, No
Deadlines, No urgency
For two languorous days.
I love what I do,
But this day has reached
That pivot point:
Too much time to do nothing
Not enough time to begin
Something new.
I'll get to it
After the weekend.
(After giving up poetry for various reasons during my marriage, I am finally finding my voice again. Expect to see poems here from time to time. If you like them, feel free to share, as long as you attribute them to me.)
